‘Bikepacking paradise’: A week of riding in the mountains of Oman

Words and photos by Jonathan Kambskard-Bennett

Oman might have hosted a professional bike race since 2010 but it’s not a country that’s exactly synonymous with cycling. It’s certainly not seen as a cycling destination; not like France, Italy or Belgium are. But that didn’t stop Jonathan Kambskard-Bennett and his colleague Phillip from jetting off to the Arabian Peninsula recently to explore Oman by bike.

Avid CyclingTips readers will recall that Jonathan is no stranger to riding in interesting environments — he rode around the world a few years back, almost on a whim. In the following article Jonathan shares photos from his week long ride through the mountains of Oman.

England can be a cold and miserable place towards the end of winter, so we packed up our mountain bikes and flew to Muscat for a week of sunshine in the mountains of Oman. Our plan was rather simple; hitch a ride from the capital to Rustaq, which sits at the foothills of the Al Hajar range. From there, we would spend the next few days riding a long loop around the country’s highest peak, Jebel Shams, in search of the mountains’ dustiest dirt roads.

What we found on our way was a bikepacking paradise. The temperatures we faced were tough for a couple of Brits fresh from a long cold winter, but it was far from the inferno that Oman becomes during summer. The air cooled as we left the desert for the mountains and the nights were cold the higher we set up camp.

The route was a mixed bag. There were patches of fast riding on brand new highways between towns, but then we’d slip off onto the dirt and make our way between villages on lonely gravel tracks. Progress was excruciatingly slow at times and the most arduous gradients reduced us to long hike-a-bike sections. Still, even the most strenuous climbs were worth it for views up in those mountains …

Our place of residence in Rustaq.

The first off-road section we pedalled. It wasn’t marked on OSM maps (which we were using for navigation), but I’d saved the GPS trail so we followed the meandering route around the mountain.

Lunch stop at a typical Omani ‘coffee shop’, consisting of a quick snack and an insanely sweet little cup of tea.

The narrow dirt road leading through the Wadi south of Murri village.

This brand new road was still incomplete at one end, so we had it all to ourselves for much of this stretch. That’s Phillip looking small in the evening light.

Our first campsite, beneath Jebel Misht.

The first camel we spotted while leaving camp.

Oman is an intriguing mix of old and new. Here a satellite dish sits neatly perched among crumbling old homes. That shade of brown is consistent in Oman.

Another lunch stop.

A ‘chicken sandwich’ from a snack shop. A cheap bite to eat, but not if you want to fill a cyclist’s stomach!

There is no shortage of land in Oman and the government gives everyone a patch to build a home upon. Despite the space, the homes are always neatly fenced off on all sides.

Philip dropping over into another valley, as we took the ‘shortcut’ to Oman’s ‘Sun Mountain’.

The stunning gravel descent after a short mountain pass.

Phillip ascending the sealed section of the Jebel Shams climb. A truly iconic road that snakes up at a nasty gradient for seemingly endless miles. A test for even the strongest cyclist, let alone those with weary legs and a heavy load.

On our ascent of Jebel Shams we were overtaken by almost everyone taking part in the BikingMan Oman race. Despite the fact that they were 300km into their ride by this point, the frontrunners nipped past us with relative ease.

Another of the BikingMan competitors making their way up the mountain. The race is self-supported and around 1,000km long. The winners complete the loop in less than 50 hours.

A lonely mosque high up in the mountains.

Our campsite at 2,000m above sea level. It was cold that high up, but not nearly chilly enough to warrant the huge sleeping bag I’d been carrying around with me.

Campsite breakfast. One of my staples ‘on the road’ (particularly in hot countries): powdered milk with muesli and fruit.

In this photo you can see one of the stragglers from BikingMan Oman pushing their way up one of the steeper sections of the gravel climb. We’d had enough the previous evening, so pitched up early and saved the rest of the ascent for the morning.

More than anywhere else in the world, Oman’s mountain roads reminded me of the American West. Particularly the dirt roads of Utah, where you could ride for hours without seeing a soul.

The canyon rim hike, at the top of the climb.

The dead-end road leading to Al Khityam. I normally do anything to avoid riding back on myself, but this track was worth it.

Hanging out at the edge of ‘Oman’s Grand Canyon’.

A remote village, high up in the mountains.

There is a 25km loop high up in the Al Hajar mountains. When you view it on the map, it looks like a plateau of sorts but in reality it is a series of punishing climbs between villages tucked away between the peaks.

Another evil gradient, another hike-a-bike.

There is a large Indian/Bangladeshi community in Oman. Their shops provide the best eats if you need to load up before the next climb.

Phillip’s shredded brake pads after the descent back down from Jebel Shams.

Evening light on the climb up from Al Hamra.

Our final campsite in Oman, perched on an outcrop overlooking the town of Al Hamra.

This shepherd walked past our campsite, seemingly totally unfazed by two pasty Brits out in the desert. He nodded a polite ‘As-salamu alaikum’ before strolling off to find his goats.

The last big climb we faced, leaving Al Hamra.

The view from one of Oman’s higher mountain roads, at around 2,000m above sea level.

Phillip’s hub started to crack towards the end of our trip. He could still ‘sort-of’ ride it, but it would slip under pressure so we ended up pushing more of the climbs towards the end.

Phillip’s broken rear hub. Not the best place to get a serious mechanical!

Our final pit stop towards the end of our loop. A quick break to fuel up on sugar before returning to Rustaq.

Sultan Qaboos Mosque in Muscat.

My setup for the ride: a Marin Pine Mountain 1 ready for adventure.

Gear

We both rode sturdy hardtails; I was on my Marin Pine Mountain 1 and Phillip was on a On-One Inbred. We both used Apidura packs to carry our kit and weren’t travelling particularly light. Each of us had a tent, warm clothes for the nights, and cooking equipment. We strapped extra bottles to our forks for carrying extra water. It wasn’t that hot in late February, but having the additional litre of water was appreciated!

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